The Forgotten
by Akaii Ciserie
Summary: Harry finds a mysterious letter, and discoveres forgotten things about Hogwart's past
1. Default Chapter

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*I don't own Harry Potter or it's characters/ setting/ plot. etc. Hey, but if I could write a HP book, it would look like this*  
  
Hey, I'm Akaii, and this is my first story, enjoy, don't criticize, be civilized, I'm sensitive you know. Please give me feedback though! Chiao!  
  
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Harry trudged down the stairs, half-awake, in his PJ's, and the usual messy hair we all love. This has had to be the 10th time I'm waking up in the middle of the night he thought to himself. It was really starting to bother him, because he missed getting at least 8 hours of sleep, and because his dreams were all very strange. He had expected them to be scary and centered around Voldemort, but oddly enough, nothing of the sort had happened. They were all about school for some reason. He went into this classroom, met a new teacher, had a very strange class, and then went down into some strange underground chamber. Then he opened the door, and awoke. Sometimes he was all sweaty, sometimes he was surprised, and sometimes he was anticipating something, and wished he hadn't woken. Most times Dudley would tell him to shut up because he talked so much in his sleep. His family was probably thinking he was talking to himself up there at 3 o'clock, but let them think that, he thought. His birthday was in two weeks, and Dumbledore had advised him to stay with the Weasleys for some time. He seemed to think that this was important. Harry vaguely remembered that he had mentioned something about getting protection from staying among muggles, but he had obviously changed his mind, or thought Mr. and Mrs. Weasley fit for taking care of him. Regardless, this was a lot better than staying with the Durseleys.  
  
Harry trudged up the stairs again, with a glass of water in his hand, and sat down on his bed. He looked around the room, seeing the empty birdcage normally containing his faithful Hedwig, to the loose floorboard empty for the moment. His Hogwarts stuff was in a corner, and his letters from Ron and Hermione and even Hagrid were on his bedside table. He wondered what Hagrid was doing now, maybe he was sent to recruit the giants with M. Maxime, he speculated. Anyway, as he lay down on his bed, he turned of the light. Just as he did that, he realized he had another letter on his table. The window was locked and Hedwig was gone, and it hadn't been there when he went downstairs. The letter was opened.  
  
  
  
  
  
Oooh, suspense (, keep reading- 


	2. Not again

Having had the constant burden of evil on his back practically his whole life had taught Harry a thing or two.  He looked at the floor, his bed, his room.  It all looked undisturbed, everything.  Even his window.  Then how, he thought raking his wits, did someone come in.  He vaguely remembered having closed the door when he went down for water.  

Now it all came back clearly, yes of course.  He woke up in the middle of the night, heard a cat meowing in the background, and sat up.  He opened the door simultaneously as he heard glass break in the distance.  It startled him somewhat in the beginning, but then he corrected himself, realizing he was half-asleep and he had opened the door quite loudly, so he couldn't really know quite what he had heard.  He carefully closed the door, and crept down the stairs, sensing absolute quiet from the whole house.  Lovely.  Not even Uncle Vernon's usual snores occupied the air.  Complete silence filled the air.  To add even more to the peace and quiet the door to the kitchen that usually squeaked so much opened effortlessly, and without a sound.  He reached for a glass on the counter, and slipped over to the water dispenser.  Cool water flushed easily and noiselessly down the cup, and silence reigned all around him.  _Silence can be powerful._  He crept up the stairs again, and opened the door.  As he entered the room familiar night sounds filled the air, and then he noticed the letter.

His alert side re-awoke, and a million thoughts rushed through his head.  Ok, he said to himself, I'm going to sit down and think this through.  The envelope was blank, and had been crudely ripped open.   Nothing was inside.  He had closed the door, but found it open.  He could obviously _guess_ what had happened, but the truth was creepy.  Why did someone steal the letter?  If Dumbledore had tried to send him something important, a warning perhaps, he could see why someone would stop him.  Easily.  But regaining the letter would be tougher, and had it been Dumbledore, he could simply not write to him.  What if whoever wrote it needed help or was in danger?  _What if Harry himself was in danger?  What if the letter had been a warning?  Fear gripped him along with a thousand other questions.  Harry could easily see where someone would try to stop a warning, but he also noticed that whoever it was had not tried to kill him.  Maybe he was leading him to something, maybe he couldn't kill him, __maybe__ he was waiting for Voldemort to kill him like him like he had seen so many times before.  Harry shook his head, he was on vacation.  Happy thoughts, he said to himself.  Maybe the opposite had happened, maybe someone had sent him something… not so good… and someone had prevented it.  Maybe it was someone like Dobby who wasn't allowed to be there.  Had it been a curse?  Whatever it was, Harry realized, he was in no immediate danger.  At least not at the moment.  He hadn't been killed, he nervously told himself.  For all he knew someone could have saved his life.  He could write to someone in the morning, do something about it in the morning.  He was too excited at the moment he told himself, and laid down to sleep.  __Go to sleep.  Go to sleep.  But however hard he tried, he couldn't fall asleep, and he laid turning over in his bed until the dawn's first rays hit the surface of the window of Dudley's extra room with all his cast-away toys, and Harry. _


End file.
